Challenge: Story time again. Can you escape the horde?
Trinity tossed another look behind her, and slammed the door closed.
At least fifty of The Slow Ones, maybe more. And she'd gotten separated from Connor and Samke. Taking refuge in a musty old bookstore with only a katana was not gonna cut it.
She rifled through the back office, and found two, no six helpful items. Someone must've been quite the work-wino, but the Jim Bean variety. Hefting the bottles and lighter, Trinity thought she might yet survive the day.
Though she didn't want to, she quietly exited out the back. They'd seen her go in, anyhow, so no sense waiting for the end. Not when she could bring it to Them.
A glance around revealed none had yet caught up to surround the store, but she heard scraping and shuffling in the distance. If the slight vibrations traveling through the ground were any indication, then there were a good deal more than fifty.
Trinity stuffed a torn piece of shirt on each mini liquor bottle, and lit the first one. The buildings would make a nice stopper, but fire even more so. She tossed the bottle over the squat building and hoped it made it.
She threw another two at the sides of the building, and downed one, keeping the last three for herself. The walls of flame were pretty, but wouldn't last, and so she ran.
The alley branched off into the main street, and she followed the trash-littered path, the ground still quivering behind her. Up ahead, she spied Connor and Samke running like crazy, and she waved.
They waved back, or more like waved her off. Then she noticed another trickling stampede of Slow Ones in pursuit of her friends.
They had to flee South if they wanted to live. And South meant mauraders. Suddenly, she had the urge to toss back the other mini bottles of liquor, but she held off. Maybe later, if there was a later.